


and i will not remember that i even felt the pain

by NeverMessWithTeddyBears



Category: Life (US TV 2007)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:27:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25935919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverMessWithTeddyBears/pseuds/NeverMessWithTeddyBears
Summary: Dani missed fruit.
Relationships: Charlie Crews & Dani Reese, Charlie Crews/Dani Reese
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	and i will not remember that i even felt the pain

Dani missed fruit.

It's not something she really thought about until she was finally doing her grocery shopping about three weeks after the grove, living off take-out and diner breakfasts too early in the morning when her skin wouldn't crawl at the number of people in a closed space - when she would sit in the corner, her eyes on the entrance and knowing three exit routs and having every person there at five in the morning in her eye-line. The woman that worked the shift figured her out quickly, noted the badge and the gun and the amount of coffee Dani would drink and made sure that the table was always free, and Dani would find her order ready and waiting for her more often than not.

She walks past the produce aisle but suddenly she's pausing in her steps, coming to a halt just at the point where the light cold of the produce fridges could barely reach her, and she could only feel the faintest breeze. Her head to the side, Dani walks back, pushing her cart with her, and comes to another halt in front of the oranges. Before long, she's walking away with bananas and apples and pears - she's never even _liked_ pears - and something she remembers Crews eating once, a soursop.

Dani lets the oranges be. She couldn't find the ones that felt just right.

* * *

She leaves the diner the next week for work, the taste of coffee still bitter in her mouth - the way she likes it - when she walks past a produce store that sells cut up fruit in a cup.

Dani feels that same pull from the grocery store, remembers how she ate the last of her apples yesterday, had mixed the soursop into her post-run smoothie, had cut up the pears in the smallest pieces and ate them slowly - she still didn't like them - just to have something to do with her hands whenever she felt the need to smoke or drink or do something stupid, and decides to buy two cups.

She eats hers before she makes it to the station and puts the other on Crews' desk. He doesn't say anything when he arrives, just looks at the cup then at her before shrugging and taking the plastic fork to dig in.

Dani tries not to care if he likes it.

* * *

She remembers what Crews told her, once, how the thing he missed the most in prison was fresh fruit. She remembers it because she found it so odd yet simple, the combination of which would make it the honest truth, especially coming from Crews, and she thinks back to her time at what she thought was the FBI. Thinks back to being in that basement, tied up and a gun to her face, barely eating for days, and how she thought of Crews, of the dumb things he'd say and trying to recall all the Zen he'd quote on a daily basis. Remembers him saying how he missed fruit and how she thought, then: _you know, I could do with a kiwi._

And now here she is, months later with apples in the drawers of her work desk, fresh-squeezed fruit smoothies in the thermos she brings with her and lets Crews think is coffee.

She thinks, now: _not the worst thing to get addicted to._

* * *

He peels a banana as they approach the crime scene, Bobby feeding them the few bits of information he knows about the found body before he's dismissed and on another call.

The woman is young - too young - dead eyes looking at her with a coldness that still makes Dani shiver even after all these years.

She looks around, taking off her shades and tucking them into the V of her shirt as she kneels next to the body before looking up at Crews, "What're you thinking?"

"I'm thinking," Crews says in-between bites, kneeling next to her. "that she didn't deserve to die like this." he finishes, passing her the half-eaten banana.

She takes it, looking back down at the victim. The blood pools around her like a pillow, her hands folded under her cheek as if she were sleeping. "No one does, Crews." she says. "No one does."

Dani takes a bite.

* * *

Crews places the carton of grapes in the middle of their desks as a silent invitation, and Dani finds it curious as to why he still hasn't said anything about her hardly ever refusing his offers of fruit lately. She's not sure if it's curious because it's what she expected, or if it's because she secretly wished he would, but decides to not unpack that now. Looking to the side, she stares at the picture of the victim from when she was still alive - all smiles and ponytails and friends she loved who might've now killed her - and pops a grape into her mouth.

"Why keep her eyes open?" she asks and it's between a question and a statement. Crews looks down at the pictures, takes one and stares at it.

"Maybe they wanted her to see them." he replies and Dani squints her eyes at him, nodding her head to the side.

Dani looks back at the photos that have taken over her desk, another grape halfway through her mouth before she notices something. "Where's her sister?"

Crews puts the picture in his hand back down on the desk, and examines the other ones. "All these friends, all these parties, all these pictures so carefully put up on her bedroom wall..."

"And her sister isn't in a single one." Dani finishes, popping the grape into her mouth and getting up, taking her jacket from the chair before putting it on.

Crews is never far behind.

* * *

"You know, I get it now."

Crews looks at her, leaning against his newest car that she always drove. He cuts up another piece of a plum and puts it in his mouth before giving her one. She chews on it slowly, lets it dry her mouth.

"The fruit thing." she continues. "I get it."

When she goes to take another offered piece, she notices how close Crews is to her.

She isn't bothered.

* * *

Dani thinks she could probably trace all the decisions she's made that led her here, but isn't willing to leave the moment long enough to do that. She thinks there's something Zen about that. Asking Charlie passes her mind for a moment, before she realizes there are more urgent things she wants to ask him.

Pulling in closer, she's surprised to not feel the claustrophobia that's started to envelope her in small spaces - not that anything about his entire house could be classified as small, even the closet that hid his conspiracy wall - as one of her hands finds his.

When they touch, she's brought back to that moment months ago, standing in the grove, wanting nothing more than to hold his hand but getting barely a brush of his touch.

Now, she never wants to let go.

_Just breathe._

Charlie leans down, his forehead finding hers and he breathes her in; eyes piercing into hers like they always have, but with an intensity she's only started to truly understand recently. His hold on her hand should hurt but it doesn't - she almost wants him to hold her tighter.

His other hand brushes her cheek light as a feather, and Dani closes her eyes to his touch. All those years locked up, and yet he's still capable of these simple acts of kindness; still as easy to him as breathing. "What do you want to do now?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. Dani almost expects him to answer in Zen riddles. Smiles even at the thought. Smiles in general, actually.

"Right now?" he says and there something in it, like he's asking something else and she nods instinctively, agreeing to anything.

The feather-like touch of his fingertips on her cheek is gone, his hand instead grabbing her by the back of her neck and pulling her in, his thumb now caressing her cheek instead and Dani moans as their lips collide, moving a hand up to his hair and pulling. She smiles when he gasps, a smirk on his face, and he drops his hands to grab her by the back of her thighs and lift her up, her back now pushed up against the wall, their kiss never breaking. A few pictures fall off, but he doesn't care - he doesn't need them anymore, anyways.

Dani loosens his tie, uses it to pull Charlie in as close as she can. Never wants him to stop.

His kisses taste like oranges. The ones that feel just right.


End file.
